


Sulahn Haurasha

by EmberLeo



Series: The Emberquizzy Chronicles [7]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition, Norse Religion & Lore
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bathing/Washing, Deity Possession, Dream Sex, Elvhen Language, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Honey, Kinktober, Kinktober 2020, Modern Girl in Thedas, Multi, Norse God[s] in Thedas, Polyamorous Inquisitor (Dragon Age), Possession, Ritual Sex, Rituals, Romance, Self-Insert, Sleepy Sex, Smut, Threesome - F/F/M, pagan inquisitor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-13
Updated: 2020-10-16
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:21:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26995093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmberLeo/pseuds/EmberLeo
Summary: For Fen’Harem’s Kinktober 2020:Ritual, Possession. Dream, Sleepy.Inquisitor Ember hasn't been able to reach her own gods since she arrived in Thedas.What if there was a way...?-----"I am at the very least intrigued. What would you have of me…” He gave her a wolfish smile. “Aside from having me?"She bit her lip, torn between wanting to just kiss him now, and wariness of how he might take the details of her plans.“I need you to prepare me as an honored vessel for my Lady, Freyja.”His eyes widened. “Vessel? You intend to allow yourself to be possessed?”-----Sulahn Haurasha ("Song of Honey") is an AU side story from The Canticle of Dreams
Relationships: Female Inquisitor/Freyja (Norse Religion & Lore), Female Inquisitor/Solas (Dragon Age), Female Inquisitor/Solas/Freyja, Solas (Dragon Age)/Original Female Character(s), Solas/Freyja (Norse Religion & Lore)
Series: The Emberquizzy Chronicles [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1241567
Comments: 39
Kudos: 30
Collections: Fen'Harem's Dragon Age Kinktober 2020





	1. The Request

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the first time I'm posting explicit content of any kind. Whoosh!
> 
> Consider this a gift, with love, to all the thirsty egg lovers in the Fen'Harem!
> 
> -E-

Ember approached Solas nervously as he sat at his desk, her fingers tangled together behind her back.

"Solas, can I ask… that is, I need your help with something."

He turned from his book to look her up and down, taking in her anxious posture. "Is something wrong,  _ Vhenan?" _

"No. Well, yes, but nothing new. It's just," she settled against the edge of his desk with a sigh, "you know how I've been trying to reach my gods. I gave up for a while, but with all that's happened, I really feel like I need to know their intentions."

He tilted his head. "I thought they were unreachable from here?"

She nodded. "So far, all my methods have failed. There's only one thing I haven't tried yet." She bit her lip, wrinkling her nose. The effect was entirely endearing, and Solas had to clench his jaw slightly to avoid grinning at her when she was obviously worried about something.

He waited for her to explain what she had yet to try, but she only blushed and looked up at the library railing.

_ "Vhenan?"  _ Solas smiled gently. "Would privacy help?"

She huffed, closing her eyes and shaking her head. "Yeah, probably."

He rose, and gestured for her to lead the way. They crossed through the great hall and down the stairs to the smaller, ‘spooky’ library under the rotunda. Ember sighed as she settled into one of the tall armchairs, rubbing her forehead with one hand.

Solas settled against the desk, and watched her for a moment. When she didn’t speak, he prompted her in a quiet voice. "Tell me about this yet untried method for reaching your 'gods'."

"It's…" She tossed up her hands in exasperation, and pushed herself to blurt out, "Sex magic! It's just sex magic. Freyja and Freyr are fertility gods, so one of the more powerful ways to invoke them is with sex. I’m hoping the, uh, extra energy involved might help push the connection through."

Solas crossed his arms and smirked at her. "And you thought I would object to this?"

She gave him a sheepish look. "Maybe? You're not much for gods."

"A fair point. And fertility rituals certainly have their hazards." He chuckled. "But we can take suitable measures."

"Exactly. So…?"

"I am at the very least intrigued. What would you have of me…” He gave her a wolfish smile. “Aside from having me?"

She bit her lip, torn between wanting to just kiss him now, and wariness of how he might take the details of her plans.

“I need you to prepare me as an honored vessel for my Lady, Freyja.”

His eyes widened. “Vessel? You intend to allow yourself to be possessed?”

She nodded. “If necessary. I don’t know that there is any other way of reaching for her in this world than through myself. I have carried her many times before. It’s… well, it’s enjoyable, and she is good to her priests.”

He tilted his head slightly. “You wish to become possessed by a spirit you consider a god, while having sex.”

She nodded. “At least in theory, if I am sufficiently prepared, my orgasming could be a strong enough expression of devotion to summon her despite the obstacles.”

He raised an eyebrow. “And, do you wish me to  _ continue _ making love to you after your goddess arrives, if we succeed?”

“That is between you and her, I’m sure, but I’m fine with it, and odds are good she will be too, if you are.”

“And if I am not, will she be offended?”

“She might be disappointed, but she won’t be offended. You have every right to say no.”

He paused for a moment to consider this, the odd look in his eyes leaving her to worry, before he spoke again, arms crossed. “And what if all this preparation succeeds only in summoning a spirit of similar inclination?”

She nibbled on her lower lip. “That, I’m not sure of. I  _ should _ know if it’s really her, and be able to turn an imposter away. Similarly, my spirit companions should also notice if I am approached through the fade rather than my own connection with my gods.” She shrugged. “Even so, would it be so terrible to attract a spirit of love, or magic, or sovereignty? Freyja’s domains are hardly demonic." She frowned. "Well, okay, ‘Chooser of the Slain’ might inspire some awkward associations, but that's not the aspect we'd be invoking, obviously."

He uncrossed his arms, dropping them to grasp the table, nodding. “We will most likely attract several spirits of desire, whether twisted into corrupted forms or not.”

Ember scowled. “There is nothing shameful about Freyja’s sexuality, such that they should be corrupted, whatever prudes from other traditions want to think of her.” She ducked her chin. “Kinky, maybe, but there’s nothing wrong with that.”

He tilted his head further, eyebrows raised in question. “I am not familiar with ‘kinky’ in this context, but if there is nothing to be ashamed of, why are you embarrassed?”

She wrinkled her nose, prompting a bemused grin from him. “Okay, fair point. I’m used to people thinking my spirit work is ridiculous, and sexuality can be a nervous topic at times, but… I mean…” She struggled to find the right words for a moment. “Okay, it’s like this. First of all, just because I’m wary of how someone will react, doesn’t mean I think there’s something morally wrong with it. And two, once I’m in a properly prepared state, any thoughts that it’s shameful or wrong will be long gone from mind. That’s one of the benefits of preparation - clarity of focus and purpose. Hence  _ ritual _ sex.”

He nodded slowly as she spoke. “Fair points. I will be happy to prepare you in the manner you prescribe, if you will tell me what you have in mind."

She grinned at him, shoulders settling in relief, and climbed back out of the chair to kiss him soundly.

“Thank you! Okay, first, we’re going to need some honey…”


	2. The Ritual

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Focusing on her faith while her lover did everything he could to pleasure her body in her goddess’ honor was an exquisite form of torture - ecstatic, even.
> 
> But then, that was the whole point.

The hardest part was blocking out the time in her schedule. An hour after dinner, she retired to her quarters on the assurance that the personal ceremony she had planned would not be disturbed unless she or Solas explicitly requested it. 

Leliana had smirked at her, but agreed readily enough. No doubt whatever guard had been posted was instructed to be discreet.

She sat before the fire, meditating, preparing herself while she waited for her lover to arrive.

She focused on calming her energy, directing her attention to the center of her being, reaching down from that center to ground herself in the lyrium-laden earth far below her tower, and then up again, hollowing herself to make room for the mana filling her to overflowing. From there, her focus ascended to the sky, past the stars, anchoring her presence in the cosmos to the singular moment of her existence. Once centered, grounded, crowned, anchored, she allowed the tension to ebb and flow with each breath as she watched the flickering flames in the hearth, and waited for Solas.

At the base of the stairs, the door latched, and a key turned the lock, forbidding all others entry. She felt him approach, felt his heart beating from across the room in the thrumming of the mark on her hand, though she could not hear him. His footsteps, his breath, were silent, until he reached over the back of the sofa to run warm hands across her shoulders, leaning in to kiss the back of her neck.

“I am here, _Vhenan._ Are you ready?”

She did not speak, only nodded, and smiled, turning her head to catch the next kiss. He reached for her hands as she rose from her seat, and led her around the room to the bath that was waiting.

He guided her to stand, arms outstretched, as he removed her clothing, one garment at a time, beginning with her belt. As careful fingers unwrapped leather from iron, Ember hummed prayers under her breath, closing her eyes. They weren’t meant to summon her gods - not yet - only to acknowledge the many powers and spirits that filled the worlds she came from: powers and spirits she had spoken to precious few of since arriving in Thedas. She didn’t expect a response.

_“Hail to you ancient and hallowed Powers…”_

Solas ran his hands along her arms, raising them, then pulled her softest green tunic up over her head, and set it carefully aside.

_“With loving eyes, look upon me...”_

Warm fingers against newly bared skin slid down to her waist to untie loose trousers, letting them slide to the floor, and took her hand to guide her in stepping out of them.

_“I reach for you in soaring song…”_

Warm breath against the back of her neck sent a shiver down her spine as he reached forward to unwind her breast band. Her breath caught between lines of prayer as his wrist grazed against a sensitive nipple. An amused huff sent air stirring the tendrils of hair beside her ear.

_“And bare myself before your blessings.”_

Her smallclothes followed, fluttering to the floor around her ankles as he tugged the ties open. Finally, he pulled the stick from her hair, though he did not unwind the bun it held secure.

Starting from her neck, just under her ears, smooth hands slid down chilled skin along her sides, making her shiver with anticipation, opening her eyes. 

He stepped away for a moment to heat the water with barely a whisper of mana and one hand, and then looked around to find the oils and flower petals she had set aside. She nodded approvingly as he poured a generous amount of the larger jar into the water - conditioning oils that would render her skin soft and smooth. The smaller, green bottle he took in careful fingers, opening and bringing it to his nose, smiling before holding it out to her to smell.

The warm accord of amber, vanilla, and rose filled her senses, prompting a sensual smile of her own. She bit her lip, her gaze intensifying as she watched him scent the bath for her. Once the delicate bottle was safely on the table, she reached for him, pulling him down into an eager kiss.

He smiled against her lips, welcoming her embrace, only to tilt his head away. “Patience, _ma lath,_ this was your own plan.”

Ember sighed, and nodded, squeezing him once before allowing him to help her climb into the bathtub. She groaned quietly as she settled into the water - just a touch too warm for comfort at first, but perfect once her skin acclimated, drawing the tension out of weary muscles.

“Begin,” Solas instructed as he poured the flower petals over her head, into the bath, to float on the surface of the waters.

Ember took a deep breath to sing the song of summoning that would prime the path for her gods, if they could be reached. Unlike the previous prayers, this song was not meant merely to praise and thank the gods, but to open the way to them.

_“The winding path between the worlds is lined with moonlit dew.”_

Where the previous songs had been relatively short - only a couple of verses each - this song was long, slow, and deliberate. At her encouragement, Solas took up a droning hum, sustained between her notes as he began to wash her hair.

_"It guides me home between the worlds to wend my way to you.”_

Between warm waters, skillful hands, measured breaths, and droning voices, Ember was lulled steadily into a ritual trance. She felt light, floating, not as if on the waters, but hovering in the room. Not apart from herself, but beyond herself, fully encompassing what she was physically, and stretching out into the thrumming air.

_“The river runs between the worlds in honey, rain and blood.”_

As she sang, Solas continued to bathe her body, massaging oils into her hair, scrubbing each of her limbs gently with a cloth, pouring clean, fragrant waters down her back and over her shoulders, until every nerve in her body felt as if it were singing along with the summoning.

“ _The water flows between the worlds to fuel the thunder-flood.”_

Soft, sudsy cloth glided along her shoulders, and down her torso, while the other bare hand soothed alert nerves. Between, around, and under her breasts, down her belly and out around her hips. The cloth changed hands to follow the reflected path back up to her shoulders, washing all but the most sensitive parts of her body.

_“My Lady, walk between the worlds to weave your wyrd and will.”_

At the cue of the penultimate verse, the cloth was discarded. Gentle hands massaged pert nipples, to the rhythm of quickening breaths in her ear. Her breath hitched on a word as they slid down her belly to run between her legs. Warm, careful hands left no part of her skin unbathed, untouched, as she whispered the last words to the summoning song.

_“I sing to you between the worlds and yearn to feel you still.”_

A shuddering breath completed the line as she settled back into herself for the moment. Without her voice drowning him out, his struggle to control his own breath joined her sighs. He had not made any other sound that might interrupt her song.

“Let me help you out of the bath, _Vhenan,”_ he murmured, his voice low and enticing, yet so calm. He held out his hands for her to take when she was ready.

She nodded, as much to herself as to him, reaching out of the warm waters to the cool air for strong, slender hands.

He guided her to soft furs laid out on the floor in front of the fire, placing a pillow for her head and carefully tipping her back against them. Firelight tinted the white fur golden and highlighted bright copper in the dark strands of her wet hair. He reached for her head, using magically warmed hands to encourage her hair to dry faster as he pulled his fingers through the fragranced curls. The heat brought out the spices in the amber and sweet vanilla, rising above the floral notes of the roses. She watched his mouth, lightheaded and dazed from both his hands and her invocations, as he smiled to find part of a petal tangled in her hair.

She held up one hand towards the side table, knowing it was out of her reach, but that he would understand, without her speaking, what she needed next. His smile widened to a sensual smirk as he reached for the jar of honey, bringing it down to dip a finger it in. This he did not taste himself, but held her gaze as she willingly opened her mouth, welcoming the sweet taste mixed with the slight salt of his skin. She wrapped her lips and then tongue around his finger, hearing him moan quietly as she lathed every last drop of honey away.

He pulled his hand away from her mouth, swallowing hard, and returned to the jar of honey, using his fingers to paint lines of the amber nectar down her throat, across her chest, outlining her breasts, and then highlighting her nipples, making her gasp before she began to chant.

_“Honey from the willing bee….”_

Sticky fingers touched her jaw, tilting her head up so that he could reach the lines of honey with his tongue. She whimpered between lines, and he hummed back to her, before she disciplined herself to return her focus to the chant. Focusing on her faith while her lover did everything he could to pleasure her body in her goddess’ honor was an exquisite form of torture - ecstatic, even.

But then, that was the whole point.

_“Amber from the weeping tree...”_

His tongue was warm and slick against her skin, occasionally accompanied by almost-sharp teeth. Licking his way from her shoulder to her chest, he teased, cleaning the curve of each breast before bestowing any attention on her now-tight nipples. The sensitive buds registered touch, but muted temperature from the honey, only to burst into wet heat as he took one into his mouth to suckle.

“Frey-AH! Mmmm…” She closed her eyes, wrapping one hand around the back of his head, and tangling pale fur in the clawed fingers of her other hand.

“Mardoll, come…” his lips supplied against her skin. She could _feel_ him smiling.

“Mmhm, to... me.”

More honey on steady fingers. Two, pressed tightly together, dragged across her belly, onto her hip, down one thigh. Lips and tongue and teeth followed, taking all but the last of her sanity with them.

“Ahhh!”

He bit sharply into the meat of her inner thigh, drawing a startled shout from her lips, before pulling himself up. She sighed, both in relief and disappointment, and resumed the chant, until he pulled more honey onto three fingers, and fed them to her reverent tongue again. She held his gaze as she sucked the sugar from his fingertips, her tongue working against the pads of his fingers. His eyes grew dark. He swallowed hard and his jaw dropped open as he tilted his head towards her, his breath labored.

He leaned down to kiss her top lip, leaving his fingers in her mouth, only for them to slide out one at a time as he gave in to the urge to further occupy her mouth. The kiss consumed them for a time, honey-tinged and amber-scented. It was all she could do to keep the chant in her head as she gasped for quick breaths between deep dives of their tongues. He groaned into her, pressing his body against hers, traces of honey smearing across his chest, and the hard thickness of his cock against her thigh.

For once, she resisted the urge to reach down and wrap a hand around him. This was not about him - not yet. This was about her Lady. Reluctantly, she pulled her mouth away from his, resuming the chant in a coarse whisper as he redirected his attention to the curve of her neck, the rise and fall of her chest pushing one breast into his hand.

_“Freyja, Mardoll, come to me…”_

Pinching the nipple briefly, he slid his hand further down, to tease at thoroughly damp curls between her thighs. Of course, some of that was from the bath, but not all - not most. He dipped one, then two fingers between her lower lips, letting them slide along alert nerves to her clit. She watched, wide-eyed and whispering, as he drew his hand back up to his mouth to taste _her_ honey. The growl began low in his chest, and reached his throat as he slid down her body to press his nose into the cleft of her thighs. Inhaling sharply, he took obvious pleasure from the mingling smells of the amber, roses, honey, the smoke from the firewood, and, most essentially, her own earthy arousal. Panting, he glanced up for permission before diving into her with kiss-swollen lips and eager tongue.

She was so aroused from his earlier ministrations, and so high from the ritual, it took him mere moments to begin pushing her over the edge, chanting her Lady's name. Her back arched up off the furs and she came screaming against his tongue suckling her clit as everything in her mind and vision burst into golden light.

And then she was there. _She_ was there! Ember gasped, feeling the familiar energy of her goddess enveloping her. Love and lust and ecstatic magic carried her on wave after wave of pleasure offered by an eager tongue and greedy hands.

Soon, she was sobbing, and then laughing, and finally, her vision cleared to reveal herself filled to bursting with the being of her beloved goddess: Mardoll-Freyja, the Queen of Vanaheim. Her head tilted down, and in the back of her mind, she gasped at the vision of beauty before her.

Solas lay stretched out on the furs between her legs, his mouth and jaw slick with her honey, a satisfied, sensual smile across his lips as he met their gaze. And his _spirit..._ In his eyes blazed the emerald light of the fade, the touch of fascinated wisps dancing across his skin in crackling patterns of light. His heart overflowed from the center of his chest with a white-hot glow, mixing with the warmth of the flickering fire that bathed his skin in gold. He looked unbearably beautiful, compelling, and bursting with power - _ancient_ power. And it could not be more clear to Freyja’s eyes that he loved the woman in front of him with a passion he could barely contain.

The lady smiled, reaching down to take his chin in careful fingers.

 _"Andaran atish’an, bellanar’thenera'lin._ This you have had.” She tilted her head, her smile stretching into an enticing smirk. “Would you have more?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Andaran atish’an, bellanar’thenera'lin. - Greetings, Ancient Dreamer


	3. The Guest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She was no longer alone, his beloved, though he could still see her within, held gently in the powerful spirit’s embrace.
> 
> The one who was with her held his gaze without flinching, an enticing smile on her kiss-swollen lips, her question hanging between them, unmet.

Solas looked up at his lover, eyes blown dark with love and need. To him, she always held a certain shining aura, often a chaotic mixture of emotions and essence, other times a brilliant, focused light. But sometimes she would shift, and a golden mantle overtook her, like a cloak wrapping her in calm wisdom, preparing her. Regardless - chaotic, focused, or calm - it was always beautiful.

In this moment, the firelight only enhanced that beauty, bringing a warm glow to her wealth of copper hair, tossed wild from tangling in his fingers earlier. Now as he gazed, fire flickered in her eyes - not only the reflection of the hearth behind them, but another fire, golden, matching the mantle she had wrapped around herself before. He had always wondered where that particular habit began, and now he saw.

It was captivating.

She was no longer alone, his beloved, though he could still see her within, held gently in the powerful spirit’s embrace. The one who was with her held his gaze without flinching, an enticing smile on her kiss-swollen lips, her question hanging between them, unmet.

Currents of love and desire, and a deeply compelling presence flowed around her in ribbons of light, mana pouring out of his lover’s skin that was not her own, not draining her, but filling her to overflowing. He wanted to drink her, consume her, wrap her in his arms and sink into her flesh and never, ever let go. And at the same time, he found himself barely able to move. He could hardly bear to look at the being before him, but even less could he bear to look away.

Overwhelmed, disoriented, he closed his eyes, only to feel her thrumming beneath his fingers, against his skin wherever they met. His hands twitched with the compulsive need to touch her anywhere, everywhere. He found himself nodding, not quite remembering what, precisely, he was agreeing with, but feeling sure that he did. Indeed, the idea that she might mistake his movement for rejection was almost alarming. He opened his eyes again, meeting her steady gaze with his own anxious, unspoken question.

To his relief, she smiled, nodding, and leaned towards him, her breath warm and sweet against his lips. When had she moved? How had he moved? They were both kneeling now, on the furs before the hearth, barely touching but for the kiss, her tongue tangling with his, drawing him out.

He sighed into her as she took his face in her hands, seemingly longer, more delicate fingers tracing the line of his jaw to his ears. She ran careful fingertips up the sides, along the shells of his ears to the tips, which she pinched gently. He gasped, and she breathed into him, the golden mana flowing off of her now flowing into him as he whimpered, every nerve in his body alight with want and need and a yearning emptiness. He shifted, restless, bringing his hands to rest on her hips, unsure whether he wanted to pull her against him or shove her back onto the furs.

“Shhh,  _ lath’in, ha’mi’in. _ ” She leaned forward, pushing him gently back, his knees unfolding on either side of her hips. The soft undercoat of the furs caressed the back of his head and shoulders, contrasting with the sharpness of her teeth against his neck. She ran her tongue and teeth from the joint of his jaw to where his neck met the muscles in his shoulder. He groaned, pressing his head back into the furs, closing his eyes as she sank her teeth into the flesh there, only to inhale, hissing through his teeth as sharp nails dragged along his chest. He arched his back, lifting his hips slightly, and she hummed with appreciation, wrapping her hands under his lower back to grasp the curves of his rear.

She shifted down, leaving a trail of open-mouthed kisses along his chest to the inside curve of one hip. Each mark - invisible to the eye - left tingling heat and sparks of lightning against his skin. He gasped again, writhing against her mouth until she grasped his hips in strong hands, humming, as if to calm him.

It absolutely did not calm him. The notes from her throat blended with the singing of their mana, twining - hers, his, and his beloved’s - like a braid of gold and blue and green, glowing between them, wrapping around them, pulling him taught, leaving him panting. Not only did he feel every nerve in his own body, but he began to feel  _ hers, _ an echo of skin against skin against skin against skin. He shook his head, trying to make some kind of order out of the sensations bombarding him.

Then her mouth was around him, wet and  _ hot _ , and he was lost. He cried out, opening his eyes to the sudden shock of added sensation, and wrapped his hands in her hair, pulling enough to make her groan, but not pull away. Not yet. He needed something else, but he was no longer certain what else he could handle without breaking apart in ways he had been so careful to avoid with his beloved.

_ “Ma… ma lath…”  _

She chuckled, and he groaned again, feeling it around him. She pulled back for a moment. “Yes,  _ lath’in, _ she is here too. What do you need?”

_ “Isalan... gara suin na...” _ He gasped out between strained breaths, forgetting his Trade tongue.  _ I need to come in you.  _ His hands fell away from her head to clutch at the furs on either side of him in desperation as he sought some sort of anchor to ground out the maelstrom of mana. It felt dangerous, alarming.

He could not remember the last time he had needed anything so intensely.

She crawled up his body to murmur against his lips.  _ “In’em, in’emma’av’in?” In me, or in my mouth? _

_ "Isalan rosa’da’din in ma sule enan’ma," _ he snarled, reaching up in a rush of impulse to capture her in his arms. _ I need to come inside you until I spill out of you. _ One hand threaded back into her hair to grip firmly, pulling her mouth against his for a devouring kiss. The other hand slid down to grab her ass and pull her down against him as he rolled them both over.  _ “Isalan mava ma, sule enas'em.” I need to drink you until you spill out of me. _

She laughed with delight, wrapping her legs around his hips, crying out as he growled against her neck, biting and sucking until a mark bloomed under her skin. He left several more bites, along her chest, each breast, and her opposite shoulder, before returning to her gasping mouth to drink again of the breath and mana pouring out of her. She ran those strangely sharp nails down his back, leaving welts he knew he would feel for days after she had gone.

He pulled her hands away, holding them down on either side of her head to regain some sense of control. What was she doing to throw him off balance like this? It couldn’t just be the extra mana. He had once carried far more within himself without a thought. He paused for a moment, pulling back to study her face - his beloved’s face. The fire in her eyes remained from before, but he still saw his beloved looking back at him as well. She was there. The spirit overtaking them hadn’t consumed her.

The wave that crashed over him next wasn’t pleasure, or lust, but a devastating love rushing through him, leaving him feeling as though his heart might burst. He whimpered and leaned back in to kiss her again.  _ “Ma vhenan, sathan…” _

_ “Pala em, ha’fen!”  _ The voice from her throat was thick with want, commanding him to finish what they had started, flooding him with the need to move. He leaned back, growling again, and pulled her knees up to his waist, lifting her hips and positioning himself to drive into her in one rough motion.

She howled, clenching around him as he pressed her down into the furs, one hand clawing the furs beside her head, the other still holding one of her knees up.  _ This.  _ This was his. This would  _ always _ be his, no matter what happened next.

He didn’t recognize the words whispered in his ear as he came, howling and whimpering into her hair, his hips stuttering against her thighs. They were neither Elvhen nor Trade. He knew what they meant, though - a promise, not from his beloved, but from her Lady.  _ I will come for you. _

As the last shudders left his body, he pulled away, rolling to her side, struggling to catch his breath and make sense of what had just happened. It was no longer in his nature to worship, and that did not seem to be quite what she’d inspired in him, but there remained an unsettling sense of awe shivering through his body as she murmured,  _ “Ma serannas, lath’in.” _

_ “Ma nuvenin,”  _ he replied, unsure what, exactly, she was thanking him for. If anything, he should be thanking her, shouldn't he? Instead of the sense of feeling drained that he expected, he felt overflowing with love and relief and unadulterated mana. He hadn’t felt this whole since he’d awakened.

He turned his head to look at her. Her skin all but glowed with sweat and firelight and the sticky traces of honey. Her sated smile was gentle, pleased, with a tinge of worry.

“What is bothering you?” she asked in Trade, her voice almost returning to his heart’s normal cadence.

He shook his head. “Nothing.” He leaned up, resting his head on one hand, propped up on his elbow. “It occurs to me that I have no proof that you are who you say.  _ Can _ you prove you are truly a goddess?”

She laughed. “Why?”

He raised an eyebrow, attempting a stern expression.

She shook her head. “It makes no difference whether you believe I am  _ what _ she calls me. Your faith is your own, not ours to choose for you. Is it not sufficient to know that I am  _ who _ she says I am: the Vanadis, queen among the Vanir?”

He pursed his lips, inhaling to respond to that singularly unsatisfying answer, but she spoke again, tilting her head as she raised her eyebrows. “Whose faith do you seek to test,  _ bellanar’lin _ ? Hers, or your own?"

He blinked. “That… is an excellent question.”  _ No true god need prove themself. _ He smiled. “I concede the point, for the moment. Still, I should require some proof that you are the Lady my heart called, and not an imposter. Can you provide that, at least?”

She sighed, sitting up. “Since you know me only by what this one has told you, I cannot - from here. Within you, I certainly could, but that would require that you trust me  _ before _ I have proven myself, and you have already taken more of me into yourself than you should if you doubt me that much.” The look she gave him was admonishing. He smirked, a rebellious impulse he hadn’t felt in ages prompting humor.

She raised an eyebrow. “That leaves us only with dreaming, where you could at least have the assurance of those here, who know me, that I am who they have known before.”

“That should be simple enough.” He sat up, moving to cross his legs, only for her to laugh.

“Let us at least move to the bed! That is the customary place to sleep, even here, is it not?”

He chuckled.  _ “Ma nuvenin.” _

He helped her rise and guided her to the bed, pulling back the freshly cleaned sheets and tucking her in with one last, gentle kiss, before climbing into bed beside her. She settled quickly onto one side, and he pressed his body up against her warmth, wrapping one arm around her waist, and propping his head up on his other hand to watch as she drifted into the fade. The smell of her skin, lingering fragrance, and traces of honey roused his senses again, and he sighed, smirking to himself.

The vivid golden strands faded from her aura, leaving the calm, muted colors of his sleeping  _ vhenan,  _ and he smiled, feeling both a flood of relief to have her returned safely to him, and a strange, wistful longing at the Lady’s departure.

He leaned down to kiss the lobe of her ear softly, and then settled down into sleep, his face nuzzled into her hair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lath’in, ha’mi’in - lover, relax  
> Ma vhenan, sathan… - My heart, please...  
> Pala em, ha’fen! - Fuck me, old wolf!  
> Ma serannas, lath’in - Thank you, lover  
> Ma nuvenin - You're welcome/As you please  
> bellanar’lin - Ancient/Eternal One
> 
> All non-canon (or canon-derived) Elvhen is from Project Elvhen by FenXShiral :D
> 
> Aaaaand the rest shall be posted for Thursday's prompt! ;}


	4. The Dream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the waking world he would be panting.
> 
> Here in the fade, he let himself drown.

Solas found Ember and her Lady in the fade without difficulty. They stood in a long wooden building vaguely resembling an old Alamarri great hall. Tapestries lined the walls, and long tables ran the length of the room. At one end, the Lady sat in a tall, throne-like chair. Ember sat across her lap, dressed in the usual soft tunic and skirt she preferred in the fade, her head resting against the Lady’s shoulder as the two spoke quietly.

He tilted his head, a bemused smile on his lips, to realize that the Lady was somewhat taller than a Qunari. Her hair ran in long, flaxen braids down either shoulder. Her clothing was simple in cut, but woven of the finest linen and embroidered in red and green silk. She wore golden jewelry - a torc on one arm, two rings, and an ornate golden necklace set with five large amber stones. Even from a distance, he could see flickering fire dancing within the stones, as it had in her eyes while awake.

They did not interact in the manner he had feared - Ember did not look cowed, or even awed. She seemed intimately familiar with the spirit, dearest friends, or even lovers. They spoke without hesitation, laughing easily as Ember gestured, a smirk conveying her wry humor. The Lady tilted her head, murmuring something, and Ember shook her head emphatically, prompting the Lady to raise her eyebrows, and nod thoughtfully. She murmured something, with a smooth smile, and Ember bit her lip, giving her a hopeful look.  _ What was this? _

Noticing his presence, the Lady gestured to him, prompting Ember to look up, and, seeing him, grin with such delight that his heart skipped a beat. He could not remember ever seeing her so openly  _ happy.  _ She looked unburdened for the first time since they’d met. Whoever, whatever the spirit was, clearly, she brought his  _ vhenan _ joy. 

It both bothered and excited him that he still could not discern  _ what  _ she was - he had never encountered a spirit of this kind before. She held a fascinating complexity he associated with spirits who have taken on the identity of someone embodied, but her presence was more intense than usually resulted from such an exchange. Yet more bewildering, there was a strange sense of hollowness to her, as though what he saw was merely an echo of the true spirit.

But how could an echo hold such a strong, complex presence? And where was the true being this spirit echoed? Was it elsewhere within the fade, or, as his  _ vhenan _ believed, was it in another world entirely that he had never seen? If she could come here, did that mean he might someday visit other worlds? And what did that mean for this world? Part of him yearned to spend every remaining moment with her sating his curiosity, but he steadied himself - she was here for Ember, not him, no matter how drawn to them both he may be.

The Lady watched him with a steady gaze, accepting his fascination. She gestured for him to approach. Where, in the waking world, he had felt compelled - inspired - to move at her smallest gesture, this was simply an invitation. He accepted. She smiled as he drew near, raising a drinking horn.

“Welcome, Solas, to this semblance of our hall. Ember has been telling me about you.”

She handed the horn to Ember, who rose to carry it to him with a smile.

“Thank you,” he nodded, accepting the horn, but not yet drinking the mead. “What should I call you?”

“‘Freyja’ is fine, thank you.” She smirked. “The mead was Ember’s creation, if that is a concern.”

“Ah!” he chuckled, chagrined, and took a sip from the horn. “My apologies, I meant no disrespect.”

“You could always make it up to me with a kiss.” She gave him an impish grin, and he blinked, looking from her to Ember and back. 

Ember laughed, taking back the mead horn. “He’s going to think you’re mocking him.”

Solas coughed, flushing, uncertain how to respond to the sudden rush their playful interaction inspired. “Not… precisely.”

He closed his eyes for a moment, reminding himself that his beloved was accustomed to sharing, and likely saw nothing amiss with her Lady’s offer. She had, after all, no objections to their activities while awake.

Of course, that was still her own body.

Warm fingers caressed his chin, and he opened his eyes to find Ember gazing at him with a speculative smile. “Are you okay, love?”

He brought his hands up to her cheeks, nodding, before tilting his head down to kiss her. She gave a pleased hum, sighing into him, and he found himself deepening the kiss, licking at her lips to taste the mead on both their tongues.

Large, warm hands reached bare skin on his back, and he gasped, dropping his hands and raising his head at the realization that his own tunic had disappeared as the Lady reached for him.

“May I?” she murmured, tilting her head over his shoulder to reach both their ears. Ember hummed agreement without hesitation, moving to kiss the base of his neck just above his collarbone as his lips moved out of her reach.

He tilted his head towards Freyja to find her face inches from his as she waited for his answer. He sighed, nodding slightly and leaning in to meet her lips. He felt her smile, and long, strong arms wrapped around him from behind to reach for Ember’s hands, pulling them against his chest. His own hands reached for his beloved’s hips, pulling her against his rapidly-growing arousal. She purred in appreciation, sliding her hands, fingers still twined with Freyja’s, down his chest to tease under the band of his trousers.

Freyja’s kiss was lightning against his lips, rushing down his spine, making his hips twitch. Ember’s hands on his chest were fire, leaving trails of tingling heat where the barest tips of Freyja’s fingers traced ice between them. He gasped, struggling to stay standing, grateful when Freyja pressed in behind him to hold him up between them. His whole body shuddered.

Ember laughed quietly. “I think we have his attention, Lady.”

Freyja’s breath stirred against his neck behind his ear. “Mmmm, excellent. Now, whatever shall we do with him?”

Ember gave them a mischievous grin. “I have an idea.”

To his immediate chagrin, she pulled away, and closed her eyes, gesturing. The wooden thrones before him disappeared, replaced with a large, deep pool of gently steaming water lined with stones, set into the floor. She began removing her clothing, as he watched with hungry eyes.

Freyja chuckled, her arms tightening around him. “I like the way you think, love.” She tilted her head, taking the edge of his ear in her lips, before humming, “Now,  _ lath’in, _ can you walk, or shall I carry you?”

He shook his head, taking a deep breath, startled to find the offer enticing, but nevertheless refusing. “I am fine.”

“A pity,” she laughed, and stepped back from him, striding around towards the pool, her clothing simply disappearing as she walked. Her golden jewelry remained, and she pulled her hair loose of the braids to let it fall in long, pale waves past her hips.

He sucked in a sharp breath, and simply stood there for a moment, staring at them both, as the Lady descended into the waters to meet his beloved. She did not hesitate to draw the smaller woman into an embrace, kissing her, one hand smoothing up her waist to cup the outside curve of her breast.

Ember sighed into her, returning the kiss with enthusiasm, wrapping her arms around the taller woman’s neck. She turned from this after a moment, to glare at him. “Well? Don’t make me come over there.”

Solas shook himself, and laughed, reaching down to slide his trousers off his hips and stride over to the edge of the pool. They both reached up arms to help guide him down into the waters, and Ember immediately pushed him back into Freyja’s arms.

He raised both eyebrows, unused to being so handled, but she just grinned mischievously at him again, and pulled at his thighs, lifting him to float with his head against Freyja’s shoulder, and his body supported by the warm waters. Freyja’s hands teased his back and sides as Ember wrapped his legs around her torso, sliding her smaller hands under his rear, and giving him one last, long look. He wanted to relax into the heat of the waters, but his body remained tense with anticipation at that look.

She leaned forward, licking one long stroke from the base of his cock to the tip, and he gasped, arching his back, pushing his shoulders into the water. Freyja shifted to hover in the water beside him, one hand between his shoulders against his spine, holding him up, the other turning his head to capture his mouth in a heated kiss. Everywhere was wet heat - heat of the waters along his body, heat of her tongue against his, heat of Ember’s mouth wrapped around his cock. He couldn’t breathe.

_ This was the fade. He didn’t need to breathe. _

He deepened the kiss, reaching to tangle a hand in each woman’s hair, groaning into Freyja’s mouth. In the waking world he would be panting. Here, he let himself drown. His fingers tightened in their hair as his body tensed again, ready to burst, but not quite falling over that edge.

Ember hummed around him, sending a rush of mana up his spine, meeting Freyja’s mouth through his own. Freyja breathed into him, a matching rush of mana traveling down his body to meet Ember, leaving every nerve along the way buzzing. He shuddered, crying out in a long, slow note that he barely recognized.

The mana cycled between them, building with each exchange, until his whole body was overflowing into the pool, spreading swirls of light into the waters around them. Ecstatic howling reached his ears, distorted by the waters, and he realized only belatedly it was coming from his own throat. They had barely moved their hands, or even their mouths, and he was completely overcome. The thought dimly passed through his mind that ‘shattering’ could be taken literally in the fade, and he felt an imminent danger of doing so.

_ “Sathan!” _ He pulled at their hair desperately, willing them to relent.

To his relief, they both pulled away immediately, letting him collapse into the water, though Freyja still held his head up.  _ Now _ he panted, letting his hands fall away from their hair to rest on one shoulder each as he struggled to regain himself.

Ember caught his gaze, worried, her hands settling on his back and chest. “I’m sorry, are you okay?”

He nodded, still panting, his mouth breaking into a dazed grin. “That was… incredible… but I couldn’t…”

“Too much?” Her smile was sympathetic, knowing. He nodded again, finally catching his breath. 

Freyja reached for Ember, smiling gently at him as she passed. “Let us give him a rest, shall we?”

She gestured for him to sit back against the edge of the pool, on a ledge he hadn’t noticed before. Ember settled against him easily, her rear sliding against his still-hard cock, as Freyja knelt in the waters before them, her head just above the water.

“Lift her,” she instructed, and then leaned down to wrap plump lips around one of his beloved’s nipples.

Ember gasped and whimpered, squirming against him. He slid his hands along her hips under the water, wrapping one beneath her to squeeze the generous curve of her ass. The fingers of his other hand he teased down between her thighs. Her legs fell open for him, knees settling on either side of his lap as he ran careful fingertips between her lower lips. Now she was panting, music to his ears, as her Lady shifted her attention from one nipple to the other, hands wrapping beneath the curves of both breasts. He hummed in approval.

As Ember’s hands rose to grasp flaxen hair, pulling her Lady up into a kiss, one of Freyja’s hands dropped into the water, strong fingers wrapping around his cock, drawing his own gasps back out. He moved his fingers against Ember's clit in time with Freyja's, his groans blending in harmony with his beloved’s whimpers.

Freyja’s other hand dropped as well, pulling at his hand that held Ember up in the water, guiding it to her hip instead. The hand on his cock slid to the base, holding him erect to meet swollen lower lips as Ember sank against him and Freyja pulled her hands away. He groaned again, tilting his hips to slide into her. She sighed, clenching around him, turning her head to his to kiss his cheek until he turned to meet her lips.

She moved against him in the water, lifting herself with strong thighs and sliding back down again. The surface lapped against their chests, little splashes adding to their gasps and moans. 

_ Where had Freyja gone? _

He looked up to find her watching them, a loving smile on her lips as she pulled away.

_ “Anel ina'lan'ehn’el saron,” _ she sighed. _ You are so beautiful together. _

He smiled, and gasped, tilting his head back and closing his eyes as Ember clenched around him again, tingling mana pouring from her fingertips as she lost herself in him.  _ Fen’hedis, _ what she could do to him all on her own was enough to challenge his control daily. How had he ever withstood them both together?

The Lady smiled.“I think this is my cue to go, for now, my love.”

Ember whined, but had no words, stilling around him for a moment to reach for her goddess.

"Ahh, don't fret, my love. I will return. You know what to do." Freyja told her, one hand reaching wistfully to caress her cheek. “You are both so, so loved.”

Solas nodded, gasping out  _ “Dareth... shiral,” _ between thrusts as Ember came apart around him, shuddering; her Lady’s parting gift, before he awoke. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sathan - please  
> Dareth Shiral - farewell/safe journey


	5. The Waking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He huffed, and then smirked. “You never told me what you wanted of me.” 
> 
> “Oh, well," she hummed low, her voice still rough from sleep. "I think I might like you gasping my name as you come inside me, pulling my hair and biting my skin in desperate pleasure. But if you had other ideas...”

Ember came in her sleep, waves of pleasure rippling out from her core to languid limbs as she shuddered against Solas.

That wasn’t entirely strange, given what they’d just been doing in the fade before he woke up, but then they were separated briefly before she, too, woke up.

Well, not entirely separated, obviously, since she woke up to warm lips against her neck and long, slender fingers sliding between her lower lips. Strangely, it wasn’t the sensations that woke her - they matched the dreams he’d left her to so well. It was the sound of her own moan reaching her ears, and his low chuckle that followed which pulled her out of the fade and back into his arms.

“Mmmmmmmmmm, good morning, love. Ah!” She squirmed as his fingers moved within her, the tips grazing a particularly sensitive area.

His voice was a low murmur in her ear, warm breath sending shivers across her skin. “I was wondering how long it would take you to rejoin me. I hope you don’t mind me continuing what we’d started.”

Deft fingers ensured her answer. “Haahhh. Ff…. No, not… at all. Mmmm…” 

“For all that I enjoy the fade,  _ Vhenan, _ there is nothing quite as enticing the true feel of your skin against my own.” Lips pulled the lobe of her ear into warmth. Teeth teased into flesh.

She whimpered. He hummed his appreciation.

Limbs still heavy from sleep, she could barely move but to react to his touch. He turned her head gently away, the better to trail kisses and nibbles down her neck. When he reached the juncture of her shoulder, he bit down harder where she was already marked, crooking his fingers within her sharply at the same time, and pressing his thumb against her clit.

She came again, hard, her voice cracking as she gasped.

“Ahh- hhhahhnnnnnn. What...what about… you?” She panted, trying to focus past the roll of his fingers and the heat of his mouth, the waves of sensation drawn out by his touch.

She could feel his lips smiling against her neck. “What about me? Did you have something in mind?”

“I - ah! - may have… a -mmmm- few ideas.”

“I would be pleased to hear them,  _ ma lath. _ ”

“Haahhhh, h-uh, you… want me... to talk?”

“If you have requests,” teeth grazed the side of her breast. “Why would I not wish to hear them?” He murmured against a nipple before pulling it gently into his mouth. 

She arched her back, pressing her breast to his lips with a gasp. “You… don’t seem… hnnnn… to need my… instruction -  _ fuck!” _

He shifted, pulling slick fingers from her body to grasp her hip, the arm beneath her lifting, spinning them both until she rested on top of him. His lips never left her breast. Her knees settled on either side of his waist, trapping the hard length of him between their bellies. He groaned, releasing her nipple, to gaze up at her face as he wrapped long fingers around both her hips and dragged her along his cock.

She whimpered at the friction, her head thrown forward, wild curls in a disarray around her shoulders, falling down around his face.

“You are so beautiful,  _ ma lath,” _ he breathed. The reverence in his voice startled her eyes open, and for a moment they just stopped, enraptured. She leaned down to kiss him, tongue teasing at his lips until they parted, letting her taste him, their tongues tangling.

Movement felt less impossible. On the contrary, movement felt essential - urgent. She shifted her hips, deliberately sliding against him, slick and hot to his thick and hard. He groaned into her mouth, and she tilted her hips, angling herself to catch the tip of his cock on the next slide. It took several attempts. Distracting attempts - every time she missed, the swollen head of his cock pressed directly against her clit, making her gasp and whimper. Finally, he flexed his hips slightly as she passed, and he slid into her in one long, startlingly smooth stroke.

He gasped, pulling out of their kiss to bite his lower lip, pressing his head back into the pillows, eyes closed against the onslaught of new sensation.

She leaned back, up, pressing her hands against his chest for leverage, and gazed at him. As his face relaxed, she made no other move but to clench her inner muscles, smiling as he cried out.

“Ah!  _ Vhenan!”  _ His eyes flew open, wild gaze locking with her own, now calmer - their positions reversed.

“Yes, my love?” She relaxed her inner muscles, teasing him.

He huffed, and then smirked, only to inhale sharply as she clenched again for a moment. “You… never told me what you wanted of me.” 

“Oh, well," she hummed low, her voice still rough from sleep. "I think I might like you gasping my name as you come inside me, pulling my hair and biting my skin in desperate pleasure.” She shifted her hips, rising partway, only to clench again as she slid down around him. “But if you had other ide-”

Before she could finish the thought, he lunged up to her, one hand tangling in her hair, the other grasping the strong muscles of her thigh as he pulled her mouth to his, growling.

The kiss was voracious, all tongues and teeth, and hurried gasps for air. The fingers in her hair curled into a fist, twisting enough to feel the pull while holding her mouth against his own. The hand on her thigh curled as well, nails biting into thick flesh, only to reach further back to grab a generous handful of her rear, encouraging her to please,  _ fenhedis,  _ move against him.

Not that she had any desire to stop. Her hips rose and fell against him, pulling away clenching, only to open for him, to slide unhindered as she pressed back down.

The hand in her hair turned her head away as he kissed and licked a trail along her jaw to her throat. His lips pressed warm into her skin, seeking a pulse point, and, finding it, were replaced with teeth.

He growled, biting into her throat as he pulled her down, rolling them over. Strong legs wrapped around his hips, but he reached down with the hand not still tangled in her hair to unwrap one, pressing her knee up and out so that he could drive more deeply into her.

She cried out, unsure how much pain was mixed in with the pleasure, and uncaring. She loved him like this, when he moved beyond even the most honeyed words, and descended into gasps and growls for wanting her.

He released her hair and throat to lean back, moving her other leg and lifting her hips slightly. The shift in angle dragged against the most sensitive walls within her, drawing moans from them both. He watched her, gaze intent, eyes blown dark, as he moved within her, hips pulling slowly away only to slam back into her the next moment.

Each thrust drew another cry from her throat, growing louder and clearer as her body warmed to the waking world. What started out as whimpers and sighs quickly became a wild song to the rhythm of his hips.

She came yet again, her arms wrapped around his shoulders, knees pulled up and wide, leaving her vulnerable and open, and so turned on she could barely think. The feel of his pelvis slamming against her clit, the hard, thick length of him dragging against her now over-sensitized inner nerves, the wild look in his dilated eyes as he moved above her brought her teetering to the edge again. She lost herself to his growl as he came for her, finally, pouring into her, liquid heat to liquid heat. He tangled both hands in her hair as he leaned down against her, pressing them chest-to-chest, and biting her neck just below her ear as the waves of pleasure shuddered through his body.

Only when their shuddering came to a stop did he release her neck and whisper her name in her ear.  _ “Ar lath ma.” _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I doubt you need these ones translated, but:
> 
> Vhenan - Heart  
> My lath - my love  
> Fenhedis - an expletive, basically "fuck". Possibly literally "wolf cock"  
> Ar lath ma - I love you


End file.
